


John Ruins Everything

by NotTheDoctor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: John never has a good day, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotTheDoctor/pseuds/NotTheDoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no such thing as privacy at 221B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	John Ruins Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Deviant art also! Not-TheDoctor@deviantart.com

“Bored.” Sherlock let out an exaggerated sigh and sprawled out as dramatically as humanly possible on the couch. He looked like a character from a Greek classical painting and was acting as dramatic as one as well.

“I could go commit a crime and you could attempt to solve it.” Moriarty smirked but kept his eyes on the ceiling. Despite their similar intellect, the two handled boredom in very different ways. While Sherlock had a flare for the theatrical, making sure everyone in the room was aware he needed to be entertained, Moriarty took a more introspective approach to boredom. Sebastian had once compared it to when a cat sits across a room and stares at you for hours without moving (“damn creepy, that’s what” to paraphrase). This did not mean he was content with ‘boredom’, but rather looked at it from a different angle than Sherlock. Sherlock demanded others to bring him something intellectually challenging whereas Moriarty put no faith in humanity. If he could not think of something thrilling then no other mere mortal could either. He would simply race through his mind until an idea (usually detrimental to the health of another) sparked in his brain.  
“It doesn’t work if I know it’s you.” Sherlock huffed and turned around on the couch and curled into a ball.  
“All crimes are somehow me. But that doesn’t mean the puzzle would be any less intriguing.” He sat up off the kitchen table- because nothing bothered Sherlock more than his lab space being taken- and strolled into the living room. “How about a murder in a locked room with no windows?” Moriarty twirled into Johns chair and fell into it with a plop. Taking Johns things was one of the ways he not-so-subtly marked his claim in 221B.

“Dull.” Sherlock sighed again.

“Body in a sealed barrel of solvent with no identifiable prints or dental remaining?” Moriarty stated, lifting an eyebrow and looked at the Consulting Detective.

“Hmm…found in a campus studio by one of the students?” Sherlock added.

“And the Professor was on leave but the substitute was not from the area.”

“With no clear indication of motive from either students or faculty.” Sherlock sat up and put his elbows on his knees and fingertips to his chin.

“Windows locked and not tampered with, Janitor on duty claimed he saw no suspicious activity.” Moriarty was becoming interested now as he added to the tale.

“Ah and there have been no reports of a missing person-” Sherlock whipped his head up and looked at Moriarty. “Ah Ha! The Janitor. Clever.” There was a brief flick of disappointment in The Criminals expression before he composed himself. “I was so looking forward to that one; you ruin all the surprises Hun.” 

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively at Jim. “I’m sure your surprise would still leave the Yard as baffled as they are over the daily crossword.”   
“Ooh the Yard, my intellect would be wasted on them.” Jim was using his sing song voice now. Sherlock was learning how to interpret his moods better and better as Jim ‘stopped by’ more frequently. Currently Jim was annoyed, which was a bad place to have him since he was given to volatile behavior. Sherlock was only proven right when Jim leapt out of Johns chair and jumped at Sherlock, tossing him back down on the couch and landing on the Detectives waist, pinning him with his legs on either side of the taller man. “I have a delicious idea, how about I just kill you now? Solves all of my problems and you won’t have to worry about being bored anymore.” Sherlock laughed under his breath. Despite being on top, Jim looked positively debouched. His hair was messy and uncombed and he was wearing a crinkled white shirt with his jeans. “Fine go ahead, only one of us will have to be driven mad by the dull masses then.” Jim frowned. “It’s no fun when you want it Shirley.” He was right, but Sherlock was never one to give anyone the satisfaction of being correct. Just as he was going to use his charming indifference again Jim leaned in and whispered in his ear, despite no one else being in the flat. “How about this; we put you in drag and see how well it looks on you?” If it had come from anyone else Sherlock knew it would be a tactless joke, but Moriarty was using his ‘serious’ voice. Sherlock was more surprised that his boredom had reached a level that this sounded like a good idea. 

“I think I’ll pass. John will be home soon, shouldn’t you leave?” Moriarty groaned. “I’m thinking about it, you’re so lethargic today it’s no fuuun.” He twisted and reached behind the sofa for Sherlock’s hidden cigarettes, pulling a match out of his pocket and lighting one up. He breathed in heavily then exhaled, the smoke lingering from his mouth and twirling up to the ceiling. His face took on an unnatural relaxed look, making him look obscene. Sherlock snorted. “Taking up smoking now?” Moriarty took another puff and blew the smoke in Sherlock’s direction. “Want some sweetie?” He began rocking on Sherlock’s hips, slowly whirling a finger over the taller man’s shirt while smoking with the other hand. Sherlock wasn’t sure which he was responding to most, the intoxicating smell of the cigarette or the rhythmic movement of Jim’s pelvis, but it was quickly reaching ‘a bit not good’ territory. “I know what you’re thinking and stop” Jim replied, “Just enjoy the riiiide for once Sherlock.” He held the cigarette in his lips and now had both his hands on the Detective, creeping them under his loose shirt and onto his skin. Sherlock stopped breathing for a second at the feel of Jim’s ice cold hands slithering up his chest. “Stop fidgeting” Jim mumbled, reluctantly removing his hands to flick the cigarette out of his mouth and onto the coffee table. Sherlock frowned. “John won’t appreciate you burning the flat down”.  
“I’m sure there are a lot of things he wouldn’t approve of, such as me molesting his flatmate.” Jim grinned and pulled Sherlock’s shirt off before he had a chance to register it was happening. Sherlock shrugged and arched up grabbing Jims face, kissing him. It was awkward and Jim was making no effort to help, yet the taste of the smoke and the smell of Jim’s expensive cologne made up for it. When Sherlock pulled away Jim had such a befuddled expression on his face that he almost looked human. Almost. “I’m assuming by undressing me that kissing wasn’t going to be an issue.” Tugging at Jim’s shirt, he pulled it over the man’s head before the strange look finally fell of his face. 

“I won’t be gentle.”  
“I expected as much.” Sherlock stayed there with Jim sitting on his lap, pulling him close and leaning in for another kiss. This time Jim responded, the kiss turning from gentle to rough and needy. Grabbing Sherlock around the waist he pulled him up against his bare chest. His breathing was increasing and Sherlock gave out a slight moan that sent a wave off pleasure straight to Jim’s Groin. “Too much clothes still.” Sherlock merely grunted as a response, to busy grinding against Jim and attacking him with kisses. Just as Jim reached down to undo his pants Sherlock went ridged and pulled back, a rare look of surprise on his face. It only took Jim a second to realize how stupid they had been, so caught up in what they were doing that neither of them had observed John enter the flat. They both turned there heads and looked at John, pulling away now was pointless, they were caught red handed.

“Well…John, er…I got Moriarty.”

Jim coughed and weaseled away from Sherlock, Grabbing what clothes were in his reach before awkwardly heading to the door John was standing in, dumbfounded. “Guess..um...I better go to jail now! Bye!” And with that Jim dashed out the door, hearing all manner of obscenities echo from the building he was fleeing.


End file.
